Complications
by AnnieXMuller
Summary: He had to go and get himself shot, didn't he. Idiot. Now Beckett's got a new partner, she's moved on, she's pushing him away, and he thinks maybe he's lost her for good this time... (Happy ending I promise!) My AU take on early S3, pre-Josh. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**_He had to go and get himself shot, didn't he. Idiot. Now Beckett's got a new partner, she's moved on, she's pushing him away, and he thinks maybe he's lost her for good this time... (Happy ending I promise!)  
My AU take on early S3, pre-Josh._**

_Note: This was the first Castle fic I ever wrote, while I tried to get my head around all the characters. Ultimately I chose not to post it because there are a ton of fics like it out there already, and being my first Castle fic I was rather protective of it. But it needs a home now. It will all come together in the end, but it's a bit of a ride...  
_

* * *

"Do not get out of this car, Castle."

He ignored her. Stepping out of the cruiser, eager like a puppy as he followed her, he was reaching into the trunk for the Writer vest he had thrown back there earlier that day, when she intercepted.

Beckett got between him and the vest, and pushed him back with a hand to his chest. She pointed him back towards the passenger seat. "Not this time, Castle."

"Then why let me come along at all?"

"Oh please, like you wouldn't have jumped in with Espo and Ryan if I'd locked you out?"

"True but-"

"You're sitting this one out." She directed him back towards the passenger side, opened the door, and stood impatiently while he took his time getting back in.

"Stay. In. The. Car." She spoke slowly, clearly, her index finger jabbed hard to his chest as she did so. Between her finger pressed firm to him, her tone, and the fire in her eyes, she felt confident he might actually listen this time.

His face fell. He was losing this one. "But Beck-"

"Castle," she growled. "Don't fight me on this one." She was bent over, standing outside the car, glaring down at him as he sat in the passenger seat turned to her and ready to push past. She'd just managed to get him back in the car. He wasn't getting out again.

"You'll have to handcuff me to this car to get me to-"

The cuffs were out of her pocket and in her hand before he had even finished the sentence. She held them up, strengthening the glare she was aiming directly at him. "If that's what you want."

He jerked his hand back, out of her reach. "No, no. Fine." He exhaled a resigned breath. "I'll just be sitting here if you need me." He turned and settled back against the seat, as if to prove to her he really was staying put.

She raised her eyebrows skeptically.

"I _swear_," he promised.

She straightened, and nodded. "That's better."

"Yo, Beckett, you coming?" Esposito walked past her, strapping on his vest, and she nodded in response.

She let the window down a little, and closed the door soundly in his face. "Stay, Castle."

He frowned, and huffed out an annoyed breath. "Not a dog, Beckett."

"Good boy," she added, smirking to herself as she moved to meet up with Ryan and Esposito.

Flicking the switch she was all business, reaching to remove her gun out of her holster, while Ryan strapped her vest for her. Drugs and guns and murder. Those three combined were enough for her to need to keep Castle out of harm's way. Safe, in her Crown Vic.

She turned back before they disappeared around a corner, to find him still seated in the car. She felt pleased that he had listened, felt more than a little smug. Was she finally getting this man under control? Her smile faded when she saw his eyes downcast, his attention on something on his lap. His phone, she surmised. _For God's sake, Castle, stay alert_, she pleaded silently. _If this guy runs, we'll need you_. Stupid, clueless - helpful - man.

"You still punishing him for the Hampton's fiasco?" Esposito asked.

"I read he and Gina broke up," Ryan added.

"Where did you read that?" Beckett asked, ignoring Espo as they made their way towards the warehouse.

"Ah, Jenny may have left a magazine- Look, it doesn't matter where I read it."

"Gossip magazines? Really, Ryan?"

"Give Castle a break, Beckett," Esposito told her. "You're treating him like this is his first year with us because you're pissed off with him."

"I am not pissed off with him."

"Jealous, then."

"Espo, I am not- What the hell, guys?" She stopped, halting Esposito and Ryan in their tracks. "Can we focus, please."

A gunshot rang out, echoing through the alley. All three took cover, Beckett cursing softly as she dropped down behind a dumpster. Her gun in her hand, now poised to fire, she glanced over to where Ryan and Espo had taken cover, and met their eyes. Espo gestured to an open door at the end of the alley, and she nodded. Someone had fired a shot just beyond that doorway. That was where they needed to be.

* * *

_Note: Like I said, this is the first fic I ever wrote, and I haven't really altered much between writing it almost a year ago, and posting it now. I tweaked a little dialogue here and there, but the characters are much as they were when I first tried to write them. So please be kind.  
_


	2. Chapter 2

_A gunshot rang out, echoing through the alley. All three took cover, Beckett cursing softly as she dropped down behind a dumpster. Her gun in her hand, now poised to fire, she glanced over to where Ryan and Espo had taken cover, and met their eyes. Espo gestured to an open door at the end of the alley, and she nodded. Someone had fired a shot just beyond that doorway. That was where they needed to be._

* * *

Raising herself up to her full height, Beckett pressed back against the brick wall of the building behind her, grateful she wasn't able to feel the sharp broken edges of the bricks jutting into the kevlar. Keeping her head forward slightly, away from the wall, she slipped quietly down the alley, Espo and Ryan opposite, all eyes on the door ahead.

It was quiet now, eerily so. No additional shots had been fired, no yelling, nothing. Just silence. It wasn't right. It all just felt off. Like-

_Shit._

A noise filtered through to her brain, but not from the warehouse ahead. Beckett whipped her head around to look behind her, in time to see two figures run past the entrance to the alley behind them, towards her cruiser, towards Castle.

She gestured for the boys to continue ahead, while she turned back. He needed backup. He needed _her_.

She heard the gunshots before she turned the corner.

_Pop. _

_Pop. Pop_.

Three shots fired.

Noise. Everywhere. Behind her, Esposito and Ryan, yelling "_Police_!" as they entered the warehouse, yelling commands at whoever remained inside. If anyone at all...

Ahead, more yelling, voices she didn't recognize. One she did. In pain.

No...

He wasn't armed. His vest was in the trunk.

_He's fine, Beckett. Just get around that corner. You'll see._

She turned the corner.

He wasn't fine.

She could see, even before she reached him, that he had been hit. She saw the dark red blood staining his white shirt, and she pushed herself harder, running along the uneven surface of the back street to reach him.

More noise. Too much. Over her radio, Esposito's voice, "Warehouse is clear."

With a shaking hand, she brought her radio to her lips, forced the words out, "Castle's been hit."

"Shit." Not the most professional response from Espo over the two-way, but she understood.

It felt like she had run the New York Marathon by the time she finally reached Castle. Outside the car, of course. Too stubborn to stay inside like she had commanded. Behind her she heard Ryan and Esposito. There was just too much yelling. She needed it to stop.

Ryan continued past her, on foot after the suspects, while Espo stopped.

"Javi, call for an ambulance," she commanded. Her voice was hoarse, breathless from running and uneven from the tears she was struggling to keep in.

_Keep it together_, _Kate_, she told herself. _For him_.

She heard Espo's voice, calling it in, when she finally managed to rein in her terror and think again. She sank to her knees beside him, his eyes open, his lips parted. She placed a hand on his cheek to let him know she was there. "You're gonna be okay, Castle," she told him, hoping one of them might believe the words. "Just stay with me, 'kay." He blinked, but his face stayed frozen in the shocked surprise that comes from the searing pain of being shot. She made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, a couple popping off in the process. So much blood. Too much blood. She needed to control the bleeding. Yanking the bottom of her own shirt from the waistband of her pants, she pulled it over her head in one deft movement, the singlet top she wore beneath decent enough considering the situation.

When he didn't make a single snarky comment on the undressing that was taking place she knew he was in worse shape than he looked.

Scrunching her shirt up, she pressed it down onto his abdomen, and applied pressure to his wound.

Castle hissed in pain, but otherwise didn't move. "Sorry," she murmured, shuffling closer to meet his eyes. "Have to keep pressure on it, Castle. Bear with me."

He swallowed. "I'm sorry," he rasped out between shallow breaths.

"What?" She shook her head. "No, there's nothing-"

"I'm sorry for... getting shot. I tried to stay in the car." His voice was fading, with each pained word she could hear him drifting from her. He shifted his gaze, broke the contact.

She was losing him.

"Hey, Castle," she said gently. "Look at me."

His eyes were drifting, taking on a glazed appearance, and she could tell he was barely registering her anymore. "Castle!" She repeated his name, more firmly this time. "Hold on. Please."

He was losing blood, losing consciousness. She was losing him.

"No, c'mon, Castle. No. Open your eyes, dammit."

"Kate."

His eyes fluttered shut and he slipped from her. "No, goddammit, no."

"I lost them, Beckett," Ryan gasped between breaths, at her side again. He slammed his fist into a trash can, frustration and fear overwhelming him. "I lost them."

"They had a head start," she replied as calmly as she could. "We'll get them, don't worry."

Flexing his fist, his knuckles smarting from the impact with the trash can, Ryan moved to kneel beside her. He checked Castle's breathing, his pulse, while she kept the pressure on the wound. "He's hanging on, Beckett," he reassured her.

The tears overflowed, trailing down her cheeks, but she did nothing to stop them. She kept her hand on his stomach, over the wound, while Ryan kept a close watch on his vitals. "If he dies, it will be my fault."

"He's not going to die, Beckett."

"But if he does-"

"It won't be your fault. "

She tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry, her throat felt like it was constricting, and her chest... her heart was breaking. She couldn't breathe. But she had to. For him.

It was too much.

Ryan laid a hand on her arm, snapping her back. "Paramedics are here," Ryan told her gently. "Let them take over, Kate."

_Kate_. God. How bad did she look? How badly was she losing it if Ryan was reverting to her first name. She slid her hands from Castle's still form, dragging her blood-soaked shirt with her, and allowed Ryan to wrap a hand around her elbow and help her to her feet. Her hands, her pants, everything was red. Stained from his blood. She stood back, watching on, keeping guard over him while they worked.

"Ryan will drive you home," Espo said gently from her side. "You can get cleaned up."

"No," she shook her head, clearing it, the dripping shirt dangling almost forgotten from her fingers. "No, I need to go to-" She stopped as they loaded him into the back of the ambulance, surrounding him so she could barely see him anymore.

"I'll follow the ambulance. I'll stay with him, Beckett. Go home, get changed. Ryan will bring you to the hospital."

"The scene- We need to..."

"There's a team on the way, Beckett. They'll get the bastards."

Straight-talking, no-nonsense Espo, who never took any crap from her, who never took any crap from anyone. She sighed, knowing she wouldn't win this one. "Stay with him, Espo."

In that moment she felt her heart completely shatter.

* * *

_Thoughts?  
_


	3. Chapter 3

Alexis' wide, scared blue eyes fixed on her in the waiting room.  
Castle was still in surgery, no one had any answers yet, and she had just come face-to-face with his terrified, angry daughter. She felt like she was still covered in Castle's blood, her skin still pink from where she had scrubbed - perhaps too hard - to remove all traces. Now she felt like she hadn't scrubbed hard enough. The girl said nothing, but her eyes were screaming at her, demanding answers to the hows and whys.

Martha laid a hand on Kate's arm. "Kate, darling, are you okay?"

She flinched noticeably at the contact, before confusion washed over her. Why did it matter how she was? She struggled to find the answer. _No. Yes. I'm fine. Don't worry about me_. Her inner panic showed through and before she could register what was happening Martha had pulled her in for a comforting hug.

"My son is stubborn," the older woman told her firmly. "He'll make it through." Martha pulled back, but her fingers wrapped warmly around Kate's elbows, holding her in place. "I hear you saved his life."

Kate shook her head, bewildered. "I did what I was trained to do," she replied evenly.

"You saved my dad's life?"

The first words Alexis had spoken since she had entered the room. Kate dared herself to meet her eyes, and saw a shift in her expression. Still angry, still scared, but she saw hope now where there had been none before. "Your dad's a fighter, Alexis," she told the teen.

Alexis nodded, but said nothing more as she sat down on one of the waiting room's hard plastic chairs. Kate nodded to Martha, who released her arms in return, and then moved to take the empty chair beside Alexis. Sitting, she reached for Alexis' hand, and squeezed it gently. Alexis barely registered the gesture, staring out into the room through eyes that seemed unable to focus.

A coffee was nudged into Kate's free hand, and she turned and smiled up at Ryan. "Thanks," she said softly.

"Any word?" He asked, sitting next to her.

Kate shook her head. "Nothing yet."

"Could be hours before we hear."

Kate nodded. "I know."

Ryan tilted his head. "You staying?"

"Yeah."

"Espo and I are needed back at the precinct."

"Go. It's fine. I'm fine." She tried to smile, but she doubted the weird upwards tugging of her lips was little more than a grimace.

"You'll update us?"

"The moment I hear _anything_," she promised.

"Hey," Esposito said from the entrance to the room. "He's gonna be fine. He's _Castle_."

Kate merely nodded. He had to be fine. There was no other option.

"Lanie's on her way," Espo told her.

"That's not necessary," Kate argued.

"She wants to be here." He stopped any further complaints on the subject with a single look, directly solely at her.

Kate huffed out a breath. "Fine," she replied.

They left her then, alone with Castle's family, in the uncomfortable silence of the waiting room. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself a moment to pray silently, to whoever might be listening.  
On opening her eyes she only felt more frustrated and scared. She couldn't reverse time, couldn't change the events that had unfolded that afternoon.

But she could make sure it never happened again.

Time passed. Hours. She kept track of every minute, every second, that went by. Martha reading (a script? she assumed) silently to herself, Alexis curled up but not sleeping, just silently staring, quietly waiting, and Kate - keeping in everything she needed to say, unable to break the silence that had settled over the room.

And then Lanie joined them. At her side. Holding her hand. But saying nothing. The company wasn't comforting, not in the slightest.

It was the surgeon who ultimately saved her from losing her mind in the tomb-like atmosphere.

_Damage repaired. __Touch and go. __In recovery. Keeping a close watch. _

The words circled around in her mind. Just snippets of the full sentences the surgeon had spoken. But enough - enough to assure her he was still alive. He was still with them. He was hanging on.

Sitting in the basic, white room, she inhaled a sharp breath and made a promise. To him. To his family. To herself. None of them would ever have to go through this again.

She wouldn't allow it.

* * *

She was there, the moment he was lucid again. She was there, sitting on the the hard chair beside the bed, eyes closed, hunched over, withdrawing into herself. He had only needed to say her name and she had almost jumped from the chair.

Almost.

With controlled, careful movements, she had pulled the chair closer to his bed, the plastic scraping along the smooth linoleum floor, and placed her hand over his.

"Hey," she said, smiling brightly as she spoke. Relief had flooded her, and she was lost for words.

He swallowed a few times, licked his dry lips. "Hey," he finally replied, his voice scratchy and raw. "I survived, huh?"

She chuckled softly, entwining her fingers with his. "You did." She felt a tear slip down her cheek, and wiped it away with the sleeve of her free hand.

"There's no crying in baseball."

She almost choked as she swallowed. "What?"

He frowned slightly as he began to register the pain. "Probably not the most appropriate quote," he admitted.

He was clearly high on pain meds. "You okay?" She squeezed his hand.

"Getting shot sucks," he rasped out.

And so the road to recovery began.

* * *

The stronger Castle got, the less she stopped by - and the more he noticed.

* * *

"Hey," Castle said as Beckett entered the hospital room. "Didn't think you'd be coming back."

Kate dipped her head as she stepped up to the bed. "I uh, we've been busy." She hadn't been to visit him in almost an entire week. He would be released from hospital within days, so she had decided to pay him one last visit.

"No flowers?"

She glanced up, her shoulders slumping in relief at the twinkle in his eyes. "I figured you had enough." She reached into her bag, and handed him a pencil and notepad. "Thought you might like something useful."

He grinned happily as he accepted the gifts. "Alexis refuses to bring my laptop."

"I've heard," Kate replied solemnly.

"If you feel up to it you're more than welcome to bring my laptop in next time."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "I don't think that's going to happen."  
He smiled again at the pen and notepad, before placing them on the table beside him. She saw him wince slightly as he twisted, his features tightening in pain. "Be careful, Castle."

"I know," he replied through clenched teeth. He settled back and met her worried gaze. "Cracked the case?" He asked, changing the subject.

Kate sighed heavily. "Working through it. It's... Well, you know how it is."

"I'm happy to help," he reminded her. "For all your theory building needs, I'm your guy." He pointed both thumbs at himself, smiling.

She returned the smile, but it was fleeting. "I appreciate that, but it's fine. You need to rest."

His face fell. "But resting is boring. I want to help."

She took a deep breath. "Listen, Castle, about that..."

His eyes narrowed at her tone. "What?"

"The Captain needs to speak with you about your return to the precinct, once you're out of hospital and cleared."

"Okay," he replied slowly. "I figured I'd be on desk duty for a while."

Kate shook her head. "You're not a cop, Castle," she told him, harsher than she meant to. "Desk duty for you is resting at home, writing your next novel."

"I know I'm not a cop, Beckett." He watched her fidget with the strap of her bag, watched as she purposely avoided his eyes. "I am coming back, right?"

"I have to go, Castle. Speak with the Captain."

She walked away - and it felt like forever.

Out of the room, out of the hospital, out of his life.

* * *

Two weeks of being fussed over at home by his overprotective daughter, two weeks of his mother treating him like he was an invalid, and he'd had enough.

And he missed her.

So much.

Not a phone call. Not a text message nor an e-mail. Not a single word from Beckett since he had returned home.

And that hurt almost more than the lingering pain from where the bullet had torn through him.

It felt like a break-up. One of them had to be the first to make contact. Phone in hand, he selected her name in his contacts list, and held his breath.

"Hi." Her voice was hesitant, but slightly curious.

"Did you forget my address?"

"What?"

He kept his tone as flippant as possible. "I just wonder because you haven't stopped by to bring me flowers since I was discharged."

"I didn't bring you flowers while you were in the hospital," she reminded him.

"I noticed that."

"Figured you had enough, remember."

"Yeah." He paused, listened to her breathing for a moment. "Are you okay?"

She was silent. The silence stretched. His heart broke.

"I'm fine, Castle."

"Liar." It was a bold move, to accuse her like that. Bolder still were the words next to leave his mouth. "I miss you."

She inhaled a sharp breath. He could almost hear her holding it. "Things are different at the precinct now," she said finally.

He frowned. "Good different, or bad different?"

"Just different," she replied simply.

"My meeting with Montgomery is next week."

"I know."

Of course she did. "Do you know what will be discussed?"

"All I know is..." She paused. He heard her inhale a shaky breath. "You won't be shadowing me anymore."

"What? Why not?"

"You were shot, Castle."

"I remember."

"I won't let that happen again." Her voice sounded distant. Or maybe it was her who was distant, pulling away from him. Something she was so good at.

"Oh I get it," he replied bitterly. "Because you couldn't stop it you feel responsible and you don't want to feel that kind of guilt again."

"Like I said," she replied slowly, ignoring his tone. "You're not a cop, and we're done. Okay. No more shadowing, no more whatever this is. No more."

What it was, was clearly over. "And this was the Captain's decision?"

"Montgomery wants you back," she said plainly. "I don't."

Liar. "Look, I know the risks involved, Beckett. I knew before I signed up for this."

"I think, along the way, you forgot. I think I forgot. I think... I never want to go through this again, compressing your wound, trying to keep you from slipping away, having to meet your daughter's terrified eyes when she comes to me looking for answers. Waiting, for news, praying that..." She paused, and he heard her sigh. "We're done, Castle. We're done."

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	4. Chapter 4

One hundred percent (pretty much). Physically okay. No residual psychological effects. Castle was good to go...

But Beckett wouldn't return his calls. Wouldn't answer her door to him (and he knew where she lived, he'd helped her find the new apartment after all). Left with little choice, he went with the one final option he had been putting off. Holding two coffees and a bearclaw, he entered the precinct. His swagger back, he kept his confidence as he excited the elevator. She wouldn't yell at him in the middle of the bullpen, would she? Nah. She would accept the coffee, realize just how much she had missed him, and take him back on as her shadow, dare he say _her partner_. They'd fall back into their usual, easy rhythm, and she'd forget she had ever pushed him away. Yes. It would be so simple.

He stopped mid-step, halfway between the elevator and her murderboard. He stopped, because she wasn't alone. Palms on her desk, leaning over it, she was smiling at... Who the hell was that? He watched silently as she pushed away from the desk, met the male Detective (he assumed) in front of the murderboard, and... No. She wasn't. _She was_! She was building theory with someone else. How.. what... She was _cheating_ on him.

He paused, blinked, shook his head. Where had that come from? Sucking it up, he brushed aside his hurt and made his way to his old chair, tried not to let his reaction show when he noticed it was gone. Gone? What the...

"Castle," Beckett said, finally noticing his presence. Her tone held surprise, and more than a little apprehension.

He forced a smile onto his face, willing his hand to extend and offer her the coffee. "Hi, Beckett."

She took the coffee from him, and he felt a sudden surge of hope. She placed it instantly down on her desk, and all the hope whooshed out of him like he'd been punched in the stomach.

"What are you doing here?"

He brushed his hurt aside. "Meeting with the Captain. Thought I'd bring you your... usual," he said, gesturing to the coffee she had all but forgotten about.

"That wasn't necessary," she said.

"You're welcome." He kept an upbeat tone, despite his hurt. Rejection sucked.

He turned to the male detective who'd been watching the exchange silently, watching with curious eyes. Extending a hand, Castle smiled. "Rick Castle. Beckett's partner."

An almost rueful smile played on the detective's lips. "Detective Hartwell," he replied kindly.

Beckett silently watched the exchange, waited for the inevitable snarky comments to leave Castle's lips.

"Nice to meet you, Hartwell." Castle turned to meet Kate's surprised eyes. "Beckett, can I talk to you?"

"Castle," she began, her tone resigned. "You came to talk to the Captain."

Tension buzzed through the bullpen, swarming around Castle and Beckett, and Hartwell couldn't linger; he felt like an intruder witnessing something he shouldn't. "I'll leave you two to it. I'll be in the break-room if you need me, Katie."

Castle's head whipped around in surprise. _Katie_? What the...

He walked off leaving Beckett sighing in frustration at the situation. "Castle-"

_Katie_? He cleared his head with a gentle shake of it. "Just, wait. Let me talk."

She glared at him, her arms folded across his chest. "There's nothing to talk about. You got shot. You're not coming back. End of discussion."

"But Nikki-"

"You have enough research to write a dozen Nikki Heat books. Don't use that excuse, Castle."

"You could have answered my calls," he said bitterly.

"I've been busy."

"With your new partner?"

Kate frowned at his words, before turning towards the break-room where Hartwell was making coffee and trying to appear uninterested. "He's a brilliant detective, and a good guy, Castle." She turned back to him. "You'd like him."

"You clearly do," he observed.

She snapped her head back to glare at him. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," he waved a hand dismissively. "So this is it? I walk out and we never see one another again, like we never worked together."

She didn't respond, instead turned her back to him and concentrated on the murderboard. She heard him sigh, heard him begin to walk to the Captain's office. Not even after his footsteps had disappeared into the distance did she turn back.

"Kinda harsh there, Beckett."

Kate turned, to find Ryan staring at her, clearly shocked by what he had just witnessed. "It's for his own good," she replied sadly.

"I feel like I just watched you kick a puppy."

"Felt a lot like that too."

"Why?"

"I never want to see that look on Alexis' face ever again."

"So this is about Alexis?"

"Ryan..." She warned.

"Everything okay?" Hartwell asked, stepping back up to the murderboard, a coffee in his hand.

Beckett threw Ryan a warning look. "Everything's fine."

"So that was Castle," Hartwell observed.

Beckett pursed her lips, lifted her eyebrows quickly. "Yup."

Hartwell nodded, deciphering the look. "And we're not discussing that further right now."

Beckett smiled. "I appreciate that."

Ryan shook his head sadly, and stepped back over to the desk Esposito had just quietly occupied, watching the exchange. "Castle," Ryan mouthed to his partner.

"Yo, Beckett? You okay?"

"Everything's fine, Espo. Can we get back to work now?" She stepped closer to the murderboard and ignored the boys as they circled around her.

"Beckett!"

Running a hand through her hair, she turned to find Montgomery standing in the entrance to his office, his eyes fixed solely on her.

"My office. Now."

She blew air out through her lips in frustration. This day was going to hell.

* * *

"Detective," Montgomery began, demanding her attention.

Kate stood in his office, glaring at Castle who stood in a corner, watching her intently.

"The final decision is mine, Detective. And that decision is Castle stays."

"But Sir-"

"Castle is free to shadow whomever he chooses. Whether that be you, Esposito or Ryan."

She frowned, shaking her head at such thoughts. "Sir I-"

"Dismissed, Detective."

That was it. Decision made. She set her features, and nodded. Turning on her heel she marched back to her desk, refusing to look back.

Castle turned to Montgomery once she was out of earshot. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me, Castle. Beckett's not angry, she's scared. Tread carefully."

Castle almost scoffed at the idea. "Beckett isn't scared of anything."

"Except losing you."

"Roy-"

"Tread carefully." His tone regained its firm edge as he added, "You're dismissed too."

He knew better than to argue with Montgomery.

* * *

"So you're back then?" Ryan asked Castle, keeping his voice low.

They stood around the murderboard, Beckett seemingly engrossed in the information on the board and going out of her way to ignore Castle's presence.

"It would seem."

"Welcome back," Ryan said kindly.

"Thanks," Castle replied warmly.

"I've heard a lot of good things about you, Castle." Even Hartwell was welcoming him back.

"Oh?"

"Let me stress," Beckett interrupted, "that those good things were all from Ryan and Espo."

"Has she mentioned me at all?" Castle stage-whispered to Ryan.

Ryan merely shook his head in response while keeping an eye on the look Beckett was throwing him.

"If you boys don't mind, I'd like to solve a murder now."

* * *

Going out of her way to ignore Castle the entire day, Beckett had never been so happy to see the end of the work day.

"You look like you need a drink," Hartwell told her as he walked her to the elevator.

"You have no idea," she replied.

"I know a place." He turned back to Ryan, "You boys coming?"

"Yeah," Ryan replied as Esposito nodded.

"Castle?" Hartwell asked, a hesitance in his tone.

"If it's okay with Beckett," he replied coldly.

"Whatever, Castle. Do as you please, you always do anyway."

He had thought, perhaps naively, that he would be able to thaw the thick wall of ice she had placed solidly between them. He had thought, clearly incorrectly, that by the end of the day she'd be back to her usual self, smiling at his jokes. But he hadn't even been on the receiving end of an eyeroll. She hadn't met his eyes all day.  
She smiled at Hartwell's (bad) jokes, accepted Hartwell's coffee (made with the machine _he_ had gifted to the precinct), and built (somewhat shaky) theory with the Denzel Washington look-a-like.

Ok. Fine. He was jealous of Hartwell. This guy had breezed in (he assumed), moved his chair (where was it anyway?), and easily taken his place. And since when did Beckett have an actual partner?  
That had been his job. Official shadow, unofficial partner. He was the one who was supposed to bring her coffee in the mornings, crack the bad jokes to make her smile, build theory and solve crimes.

He had broken up with Gina while in the Hampton's, come back with the intention of announcing his feelings for his muse, gotten himself shot on his first day back, and now three months later he may as well have stayed at home.  
Beckett had moved on.

"I think I'll call it a night, guys."

Ryan frowned. "Aw c'mon, Castle. Just one drink."

"Nah, I'm good. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, Bro," Esposito agreed. "Tomorrow."

"Good to meet you, Detective Hartwell." Castle shook the man's hand once more, because he could be an adult like that when he had to be.

"You too, Castle." He returned the handshake firmly, but kindly.

Watching Castle step into the elevator alone, avoiding eye-contact as the doors closed, Ryan said sadly, "I don't think he's coming back tomorrow."

Kate stood silently, her face hiding the fact her heart was breaking in her chest. _It's for his own good_, she reminded herself. His life was more important to her than having him at her side. Even though she missed that - missed him - so much she could barely stand it.

"Seems like a good guy," Hartwell observed. "He's clearly been missed around here." He was looking straight at Beckett as he spoke.

"He has." She blinked away the tears. "I'm about ready for that drink now."

* * *

_Enough angst for ya, Ky?_


	5. Chapter 5

**So, a reminder: This was my first fic. It stayed on my harddrive for a year, for obvious reasons. I'm only really uploading it now to give it a home more than anything. If you don't like the characterisations, you know where the back button is. Also, cursing in reviews is impolite. Thank you.**

* * *

The music vibrated around them, the steady _thump thump _resonating within her, beckoning her to the dance floor. And she wanted to. Badly. To step amongst the sea of people flooding the floor, and lose herself in the music.

But she was cornered. At the back of the club, in an intimate booth, sandwiched between Ryan and Hartwell, with Espo opposite.

She felt big, concerned, brown eyes drilling into her, and turned. Through her own tired eyes she took in the frown on Hartwell's face, and followed his line of vision to the almost empty glass in front of her.

"What?"

He moved a little closer to her, said near her ear, "Did you inhale that?"

"It was a tough day, okay," she warned, having to lean just a little closer to him to be heard. "Don't start."

"I'd like to see Castle back tomorrow, wouldn't you?"

She hated trying to have conversations in clubs. It was frustrating and always left her with a migraine. "No," she replied firmly.

"Why not?" He was pressed to her side now, coaxing the admission out of her one question at a time.

"It's not safe."

Hartwell scoffed at her words. "Life isn't safe. He clearly enjoys being at the precinct, let him have his fun."

"He enjoys being around Beckett," Ryan interjected, his voice slurring just a little, the beers catching up with him.

Kate rolled her eyes and emptied her glass in one mouthful.

"I know," Hartwell mouthed to Kate when she had turned back to face him.

She swallowed, almost choked. "He doesn't... We have an unorthodox relationship." She paused, her smile rueful. "_Had_ an unorthodox relationship." God, her head hurt.

Hartwell nudged her with his elbow. "C'mon, Katie. Let's get you a refill."

She eyed him warily for a moment, before giving in with a short nod of her head. She followed him out of the booth, towards the bar.

The dance floor of the club drew her in, the siren's song luring her, the need to crash against the bodies as they moved to the music almost too much. She could be one of them, out there, caring for nothing but the next song having a beat she could dance to, but she followed her old friend to the bar instead, the much needed buzz still a few beers off.

"You like him."

She tore her gaze from the dancers, narrowed her eyes. "Alex-"

Hartwell silenced her with a hand held up between them. "I've known you a long time, Katie. Don't lie."

She leaned against the bar while he ordered, her palms resting lightly on the sticky surface. "It's hard for me to talk to you about feelings that I'm only just starting to understand myself."

"It's hard for you to talk about feelings at all."

"Yeah," she agreed, the single word leaving her lips like a sigh.

Taking the drinks, he turned and handed her one. "So you've ended the relationship completely? If it can't be one thing, it can't be anything?"

"Alex-"

"No, don't." He warned her. "This isn't you, Katie. We may have been out of touch a bit recently, but you haven't changed this much. I know."

"I have a lot to work through."

"You always do," he replied dryly. "Demming misses you, by the way."

Oh no, she wasn't going _there_. That conversation wasn't happening _at all_. "You're one of the few who can speak to me like this-"

"Because you love me."

"But don't think you'll always get away with it."

They had stopped, a respectable distance from the booth Esposito and Ryan were seated at. She couldn't have this conversation around the boys.

"Did you enjoy working with him?"

She shrugged. "He made the job a little more fun, yes."

"So you're pushing him away, despite the fact you miss him like crazy, because you're scared he's going to get shot again and you'll lose him forever."

"It's for his own good." She brought the beer to her lips, and swallowed a generous amount. _Slow down, Kate_, she warned herself. _Slow down._

"How many times have you repeated those words silently to yourself?"

"You remind me of him a little," she replied, once she had swallowed and taken a breath. "The way you get into my head."

Hartwell merely shrugged. "It's what I do, remember. It's what I've always done."

The buzz from the alcohol loosened her tongue. "I miss him."

"I know."

"So what do I do?" She asked, giving in. "Give me some options here, Alex, 'cause I'm not seeing any."

"Go talk to him," he responded, like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

And maybe it was.

"No," she replied stubbornly.

"He's not going to show tomorrow if he thinks you're done with him. And you're not, Katie. I know. You love him."

"I don't-"

"You do," Hartwell interrupted. "The way your eyes flick up at the mention of his name, the smile that played on your face when a story was recounted, of something Castle said or did." He smiled sadly as he added, "You've loved him since before you even met him. I remember, Katie. Those books you used to read. They were his."

She hated him a little for remembering that. Except, she didn't hate him. She could never. "If he gets hurt again..."

"Any one of us could get hurt at any time. We know this. And Castle knows and accepts this. Go talk to him," Alex told her firmly.

She folded her arms across her chest and stared out into the crowded club. She wasn't taking any of it in, she was too lost in the swirling mess of memories fogging her brain.  
After a moment, she pulled out her phone, and hesitantly hit his name in the contacts. With a nod to Alex, she slipped away towards the entrance. She stepped outside into the cool night, and made the call.

"I think you dialed the wrong number," Castle said into the phone, his tone even but cold.

Kate sighed. "I didn't."

"What do you want, Beckett?"

She wrapped her free arm around her waist; her hand clutched her elbow, keeping her arm up, keeping the phone to her ear. "I don't know." The words came rushing out of her mouth before she could censor them. The answer was too honest, too raw. "Are you coming in tomorrow?"

"Of course."

"I thought, maybe..."

"I thought I might shadow the brilliant Detective Hartwell."

She did her best to ignore his tone. "The boys miss you. Ryan looks like he's about to cry into his beer at every mention of your name. Please come join us tonight."

He was silent for too long. She thought maybe he had hung up. But that wasn't his style.

"Where are you?"

She gave him the name and address of the club, ended the call, and slipped back inside. She was silent as she slid in next to Alex, took his beer from his hand, and chugged it back.

"Castle's clearly on his way," Ryan observed dryly.

* * *

**The big reveal as to who exactly Alex Hartwell is and how he knows all that he knows - and why he gets to call her 'Katie' - will take place next chapter. I'm excited. Are you?**


	6. Chapter 6

_Note: A reminder this is AU Early S3 - so you might recognise some dialogue..._

* * *

"Hey, Castle, you came." Ryan had a dopey smile on his face, his words slurring slightly as he spoke.

"Took your sweet time, Bro," Esposito told him.

Castle slung his coat over his arm, the club too warm for so many layers, and surveyed the table. Ryan was drunk; Esposito was bored; Hartwell was using a well-placed elbow to keep Ryan from slumping against him; Beckett was...Not there.

_Great_.

"Where's Beckett?" Castle asked, glancing around.

Hartwell gestured, with a tilt of his pint glass, towards the dancers on the floor. "In the middle of all that."

"Beckett dances?" Castle asked, a little impressed by that revelation.

"Katie's got killer moves," Hartwell announced.

Caught between taking a seat, and stepping out into the sea of dancers, Castle found himself frowning at Hartwell's words. ""How do you get away with that?"

"With what?" Hartwell asked, oblivious.

"Calling her that. Katie."

"Oh _that,_" Hartwell replied, smirking around the top of his glass. He didn't volunteer any further information, choosing instead to drain the last of the beer in one swallow. He placed his empty glass on the table, and smiled at the writer. "She's out there, waiting for you."

_Or hiding from him_.

Castle scanned the figures, trying to identify Beckett as the strobe lights flashed, slowing down the dancers movements in the frenzy of the club. He placed his coat on the seat beside Hartwell, and stepped towards the crowd.

She was there, somewhere. He strained his eyes as he walked, pushing through scantily-clad bodies who pushed back against his as he searched. Stray hands reached for him, fingers brushing against his pants, but he ignored it all.

And then he saw her.

Lost in the rhythm, hands in the air mimicking those around her, her eyes were closed as she moved her body to the beat. He stopped, mesmerized by her. Her hips swayed as she turned, her hair whipping around.

His muse had become a maenad.

He stepped behind her, struggling with the approach to take. When saying her name incited no reaction, he touched his hands to her hips, his fingers curling lightly around her waist, just barely grazing the rough fabric of her tight jeans.

She spun around, face flushed, tendrils of hair sticking to her sweat-slicked skin. "Castle! What the hell?" She breathed, broken out of her Bacchic state.

He leaned in to her, getting into her personal space. "You called _me_, remember, _Katie_?"

Instead of pushing him back like he had been expecting, she leaned in even closer, her lips almost brushing his ear. "Call me that again and I'm walking away."

She turned from him, but his hands found her hips again, keeping her from moving away. She swayed to the music but didn't fight his touch. He pulled her body flush to his while she moved in time to the beat, and he whispered into her ear, "Are you and your new partner in a relationship?"

She laughed, a short, humorless bark. "Not my partner, Castle," she threw over her shoulder.  
She turned to face him again, her fingers curling over his shoulders as she pulled him in closer. Her pelvis brushed his as she kept the beat. "But so what if we were in a relationship?"

The heat of the club, of her body pressed to his, was becoming too much for him. Despite the fact she had practically thrown him out of the precinct earlier, it was still taking every ounce of strength he had now not to slide his fingers into her hair, and pull her lips to his. He should have been angry, not turned on. Castle swallowed hard, and shook his head at her. "You wouldn't be dancing like this - with me."

"No," she agreed. She turned in his arms, a slow spin, every movement designed to drive him crazy. Her ass swept purposely against his crotch before she faced him again. "I suppose I wouldn't."

He squeezed his eyes closed, counted to ten, remembered how to breathe. "He's not your partner?"

She shook her head. "Nope."

She stumbled slightly, falling forward against him, and he wrapped an arm around her waist to stabilize her. "You're drunk, Beckett."

"Yeah," she agreed. She met his eyes, and shook her head. "But I'm not dating Alex."

"Who's Alex?"

"Hartwell. The Detective who isn't my partner."

"Oh you've got to be kidding me."

"What?"

"Nothing," he muttered. "Just a Patterson thing."

Kate nodded. "Mmmm, yeah, I know what you're referring to." How could she not? She'd watched Alex get strife for it during their Academy days, and she'd also seen how he'd reacted to it. "And if you mention the name Alex Cross he'll hurt you. Seriously hurt you. Trust me, Castle. It's not worth the pain."

He tried to match her beat while she danced, but he lacked the skills. So he moved with her as best he could, not wanting to break this moment. Her, finally talking. Them, actually dancing.

"He's married, Castle," she told him, making it very clear she had no interest in Alex.

"Did you ever date?"

"No." She pulled back and eyed him curiously. "You've figured out he and I have a history, you just can't figure out what that history is."

"You're friends with his wife?"

She chuckled. She stopped dancing then, and laid her hands on his forearms. Turning him, she pointed to where Alex sat accepting a drink from a man Castle didn't recognize.

"Nope. I am friends with his husband, however."

_Oh._

"He's married," she told him, "It just isn't recognized in this state."

"He's gay."

"He sure is. Nate had to find a babysitter before he could join us too."

Jesus. They had kids too. Castle turned back to her, absorbing it all. Sighing, he finally said, "This music's really loud. Mind if we step outside?"

A small smile played on her lips as she considered his request. "Lead the way." He moved to take her hand, but she pulled back. "Just walk, Castle. I'll follow."

He fought his way through the dancers, and then pushed out through the main door, out into the street. The noise of the club became muffled as the door closed behind them. He moved down the street a few steps, away from the line of people still waiting to get in. She followed him, never stumbling on her heels on the uneven pavement. The cold night air sobered them both almost instantly, and her balance was near perfect. How she walked in those shoes amazed him. Everything about her amazed him. He watched her silently, waited for her to speak, and she got the hint.

Outside the club, now it was just the two of them, she kept a distance from him. There was so much she needed to tell him, and more than a few apologies to be made. Before all that, before she opened up her soul and let him back into her heart, Alex's presence needed to be explained.

"We met at the Academy, Alex and I," she told him, pushing her hair back away from her face. "Graduated together. He's like a brother, Castle. My big brother. My dad even treats him like a son. And yes, he gets to call me Katie. Just him, and my dad. _That's it_." _Not you_. She had left the last two words out, letting her eyes silently communicate them.

Castle nodded, taking it all in, before asking, "How gay is he?"

"Castle," she admonished. "Are you kidding me with that question?"

"Sorry." He shrugged. "So not partners and not in a relationship." His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head slightly. "But _Alex? _Really?"

"Okay what is it about his name that's got you so hung up? Because it's a Patterson thing? Because, really, Castle-"

"My middle name is Alexander," he said, interrupting her.

She blinked a couple of times at that new information. "I thought your middle name was Edgar?"

He smiled at that. _Gosh, wonder how she knew about that..._ "Been perusing the personal section of the Richard Castle website again, have we, Beckett?"

She turned, sighing in mild annoyance. "I'm walking away now, Castle."

"No. Wait." He touched a hand to her arm to stop her. "I changed my middle name to Edgar, for Edgar Allan Poe, back when I changed my last name to Castle."

"Forever haunted by Alexanders," she muttered.

"If he's not your partner then... Why did he act like it today?"

She rolled her eyes at that. "He wasn't acting like my partner. If you had actually listened to a word he had said you would have realized he's working a different case."

It was true. He hadn't really paid much attention to a single word that had left Hartwell's lips. He'd been more interested in getting just a second of Beckett's attention, trying to get the melt started. But it'd been like the ice age in the precinct, and the task had been beyond his abilities.

"What case?"

"Yours," she said pointedly.

He blinked. "What?" He shook his head. "No, Detective _Blake_ has been investigating my shooting." Detective Blake, the pretty blonde woman who'd visited him in the hospital more than Beckett had, purely professionally of course, but still more than Beckett.  
And he knew. He'd counted each visit. From both of them.

"And who do you think Detective Blake is partnered with?"

"Hartwell works Robbery?"

That was what this case was. A robbery. The man who had shot him had nothing to do with the murder case Beckett had been investigating. Beckett, Esposito and Ryan had solved that one. Shelved it. Moved on. Now Robbery was trying to track down the documents that had been removed from the warehouse, and Detective Blake was on the case.

And Detective Hartwell too - it seemed.

"I went to him, the day after your.. you were..." She gestured at his abdomen, hating to speak the words. "He's the best, Castle. I needed to find who shot you, and Alex is the best." She smiled then. "They're close, Castle. Really close. Alex thinks tomorrow might be the day."

He met her eyes, held her gaze. She smiled then, the first real smile she had given him in months.

Her heart pounded in her chest as his eyes held hers. Being with him now made all the fear come rushing back; being with him now made her never want to let him go again. She wanted to be with him, but her need to keep him safe overpowered all other needs, and left her with the only reaction she knew: push him away, shut down.

He saw the internal battle she was waging, saw it all loud and clear in her eyes. He reached a hand out, linked his fingers through hers. "Talk to me, Kate," he said gently.

A commotion behind them broke the contact; Kate yanked her hand out of his like she had been burned, her head turning quickly away from him.

"How you two doing?" Alex asked, stepping over to them with Esposito and Ryan in tow. At his side, Nate, taking him home to the kids.

"Working through some things," Kate replied slowly.

"Oh yeah?" Alex asked innocently. "Any progress?"

Kate hesitantly met Castle's eyes, before looking away again.

"I'm still here, aren't I?" Castle replied.

"You'll be at the precinct tomorrow?"

"Yes," Castle replied easily, ignoring the look Beckett was throwing him. Yeah, other than briefly over the phone, they hadn't quite discussed that yet.

"Excellent news. You and I need to sit down tomorrow, Castle. Got an update or two on your shooter."

"I'll be there."

He nodded. "Got a tired babysitter at home," Alex told them, an apologetic tone to his voice. "Gonna drop these two home on the way." He paused, eyed Castle and Beckett in interest. "Need a ride home too?"

"I'll take Beckett home," Castle said. He glanced over to meet Kate's eyes, not sure if she would even let him.

Beckett waved a hand dismissively. "It's fine. I'll catch a ride with Castle."

"Be good, Katie." Alex paused then, smirked. "If you can't be good, be careful. If you can't be careful, remember the date."

She punched him square on the arm for that.

He rubbed his arm, but he smiled as he did so, a sparkle in his eyes. "And you, Castle. I know her father."

"C'mon, Castle," she said, smiling at her partner's slack-jawed expression. "I know a good coffee shop around the corner that stays open all hours. We need to talk."

* * *

_Nearing the end now folks :)_


	7. Chapter 7

_"Be good, Katie." Alex paused then, smirked. "If you can't be good, be careful. If you can't be careful, remember the date."_

_She punched him square on the arm for that._

_He rubbed his arm, but he smiled as he did so, a sparkle in his eyes. "And you, Castle. I know her father."_

_"C'mon, Castle," she said, smiling at her partner's slack-jawed expression. "I know a good coffee shop around the corner that stays open all hours. We need to talk."_

* * *

He might never know how easy it would have been for her to take him straight to her home. To her bed. Perhaps they wouldn't have even made it to the bed.  
The kitchen counter then.

He might never know...

He might never know how she almost lost herself, in the hours and first couple of days following his shooting. Might never know how it was Alex who had to pull her back from the ledge because Castle wasn't there.

Castle wasn't there...

But that wasn't Castle's fault.

She had commanded him to stay, spoken to him like he was a dog, while she threatened to handcuff him to the steering wheel. She hates how those could have been the last words she ever spoke to him.

In reality, she had needed him by her side, covering her back while she had walked towards that warehouse, like Ryan had Espo's back. Like Blake had Hartwell's.  
How it should be with partners.  
Because that's what he was. Her partner. And she hadn't had his back.

She needed her partner back.

She wouldn't blame him if he turned her down.

* * *

"What was that? Earlier, in the club?"

She sat opposite Castle, her hands wrapped around the cup of coffee in front of her. They hadn't said a word while they had waited for their coffee. Kate had sat staring out past him into the darkness of the street beyond, and he had sat watching her.  
But the silence had stretched long enough, threatened to become uncomfortable. So he had broken it - badly.

Kate sipped her coffee slowly, savoring the taste of the blend, before raising her eyes to meet his. "What was what?"

He narrowed his eyes as she held his. Her voice and eyes, so seemingly laced with innocence, daring him on.

He took the bait. "I hear you broke up with Demming."

"I hear you broke up with Gina," she retorted.

His own coffee ignored on the table, pushed to the side, he asked, "Why'd you dump him, Kate?"

She shrugged as she dropped her gaze into the coffee cup, anywhere but at him. "He wasn't what I was looking for." She inhaled a breath. Held it. Breathed it out as she asked, "You?"

"It was a mistake that shouldn't have been repeated." The truth. Or part of it.  
Silence fell between them. She avoided his eyes, again so fascinated by her coffee, while he struggled to keep her talking. He pushed a little harder then. "Okay, talk, Beckett. You shut me out. Why?"

"You were shot, because of me. I needed to keep you safe." She kept her tone even, kept her face blank and her eyes downcast. If she suppressed her emotions she could talk about this.

"You barely came to see me," he reminded her. Anger bubbled up, and he couldn't keep it from his voice. "Was that your way of keeping me safe too? Because that hurt."

Still she refused to meet his eyes. "It was easier that way."

"For whom?"

"Both of us."

"Didn't feel easier. That hurt, Kate. I thought we were... friends."

She looked up sharply then, surprised by his words. "We _are_."

With her eyes finally meeting his again, he bravely fired three words at her. "I missed you." Three simple, heart-felt words.

Kate sighed softly. "I missed you too." Her eyes dropped back down to her coffee, and the silence engulfed them again.

* * *

The silence had dragged on. Too long.

With a nod of his head behind him, he said, "C'mon, Kate. I'll take you home."

Sadness clouded her eyes, the knowledge she hadn't said all she had meant to. But she stood, and followed him to his car. It was a two-block walk from the coffee shop, but thanks to the cold night, the coffee, and this conversation, she was stone-cold sober now.

Castle watched as she gazed around, blatantly refusing to meet his eyes again.

He needed to take a _different_ approach.

"I managed to get quite a bit of writing done while I was recovering," he told her as they walked. Side by side, but not touching. He shoved his hands into his pockets, mirroring her own body language, and was mindful of their proximity, never allowing an elbow to brush.

She nodded, but didn't glance his way. "I'm glad."

"Wasn't much else to do," he admitted.

"Yeah."

"I filled the notepad, by the way. Thank you again for that, it was very thoughtful."

"You're welcome."

She was withdrawing again, pulling back. He couldn't reach for her though, one touch and she might run. "I started something new," he began, keeping his eyes locked ahead. "A heartbreaking story where the protagonist is in the middle of losing his best friend." In his peripheral vision he saw her head turn his way, but she didn't say a word. "They were close, really starting to build something - or so he thought - but then there was an accident and he got hurt, and now he's losing her." He turned to her, met her eyes. "The problem now is that I'm stuck. I can't continue the story because I don't know what shifted within her to make her pull back. Any insights?"

She broke the eye contact and faced forward again. "You're the writer, Castle. I'm sure you can figure it out."

"Right? Except nothing is believable. Every word I write will just end up making the readers dislike the friend even more. They'll think bad of her - and she's not a bad person."

Kate shrugged. "Maybe she's supposed to be hated for a while. Maybe the readers are supposed to be confused right along with her."

Castle turned to her, his eyes boring into her profile. "Is she confused?"

Kate sucked in a deep breath but didn't turn. "Maybe she's pulling back because her feelings for her best friend are changing, and that scares her. And maybe when he got hurt she realized what he meant to her - and just the thought of going through an accident like that again almost ended her."

"He's scared too," Castle admitted gently. "He missed her fiercely during his recovery from the accident, and that terrified him. He went back, did I tell you?" He asked innocently. When she shook her head he continued, "He went back, even though she pushed him away, he went back. But then she gave him one long hard final shove, and he wondered if maybe now was a good time to take a step back and reevaluate everything."

"Everything?" She asked, clearly curious.

"What he meant to her."

"Did he figure anything out?"

"Nah, didn't have time. She phoned him, asked to see him. I think their friends gave her a shove. And," he continued quickly, "there's this one friend. I don't really know where he came from. He just sort of appeared in the story, someone she had kept secret."

Kate pursed her lips. "Maybe some people are best kept out of the story."

"Too late. He's there, briefly though. Just long enough to serve his purpose."

She nodded. "Is he a threat?"

"Nah," Castle said, shaking his head. "Not at all."

"Then move on and don't worry about him."

"That's the plan."

She was wrapped up in the story now, too much of a sucker for his words to stop encouraging him. "So, um, he pulled back? Does he want that?"

"No," Castle replied, pleased she was asking questions. "Does she?"

"I don't think so," Kate admitted. "She thought she did, but she sees now that she dealt with it wrong." She paused for a beat, smiling ruefully. "Wow, Castle. This character sounds like a handful. I'm not sure I like her very much right now either."

"She's extraordinary though," he said softly. "Complex."

She smiled at his words. "Have you written their ending yet?"

He shook his head. "No. I needed to know the why before I could even consider tackling that."

"Good." She nodded thoughtfully. "I think they still have quite a journey to go on first."

"But they'll get there?"

"In time. Yes." Pulling her lip between her teeth, Kate followed as he stepped to his car. "Take me home, Castle."

* * *

The ride to her apartment was silent. She stared out the window while he navigated the streets, the gentle sounds of the engine, the tires on the road, the only sounds swirling around them.

He pulled up, moved to exit the car, but something in the way she held herself stopped him.

She picked at her nails while she remained in the passenger seat, willing herself to be brave. For once. "If you had died." She almost choked on the word. "I don't think I would have survived that."

She exited the car in quick, precise movements before he could respond.

He followed.

* * *

"Your protagonist?" She asked as she fumbled slightly with her key, scraped it across the lock trying to get it in. It slipped in on the second attempt, turned. "Does he love his best friend?"

Castle stood outside her front door, having accompanied her up. He waited for her to open the door, step inside. She still had her back to him when he said, "He does."

She froze for a moment, then turned and asked softly, "Does she love him back?"

He searched her eyes for the answer. "I think she's getting there."

Kate nodded. "She is."

"It's okay, though," Castle said sweetly. "The protagonist is a patient man. He'll wait for her."

She blinked away the tears. She leaned into him, smiled slightly at the momentary look of panic that washed over his face, before brushing her lips across his cheek. "His patience is more than she deserves," she whispered into his ear. She pulled back, a tear trailing down her cheek despite the soft smile playing on her lips. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

He swept the pad of his thumb across her cheek, wiping her tears away. "Definitely," he replied kindly. "Thank you," he said then, caught between pressing his lips to hers, and walking away. "For taking me back."

She curled her hand around his shirt, and tugged him to her. Catching him off guard he stumbled slightly, finding his footing again as her lips crashed into his. His hands found her, curling at her waist, pulling her closer.

His fingers tangled in her hair, his other hand at her waist, holding her against him, and she kissed him hard, her lips and tongue battling with his for dominance. She kissed him until it felt real, until she understood what she was doing, and it no longer scared her. He matched her, each nip of her lips, each sweep of her tongue, he kept the rhythm. Only breaking when she tore her lips from his.

She stayed there, her body pressed to his, hands holding tight. Breathless, she leaned a little to the right, her lips brushing his ear as she spoke one final word.

"Always."

* * *

_Thoughts?_


End file.
